


Adventures In Customer Service

by Piandaoist (piandaoist)



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Complete Bullshit, Crack, Gen, One Shot, no beta we die like jet, with friends like piandao who needs enemies?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:28:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26041180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piandaoist/pseuds/Piandaoist
Summary: Sometimes, the Cabbage Merchant really hates his job.  See also: Piandao, the Karen of the Avatarverse. #atla15 prompt | Cabbages
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16
Collections: #atla15 -- Avatar the Last Airbender 15th Anniversary Prompt Challenge, Piandaoist Back On Her Bullshit, Piandaoist's Short Stories Collection, The Piandao Library





	Adventures In Customer Service

**Author's Note:**

> [Prompt Challenge](https://atlafans.tumblr.com/post/190938611989/caelum-in-the-avatarverse-february-21-2020): [#atla15](https://www.tumblr.com/search/atla15) | Cabbages [@atlafans](https://tmblr.co/mnuJxs3q96ZkLxemOzj5bqQ)

Piandao blew into town like a crazy typhoon and left a wake of confusion in his path. He and his cleverly-named eel hound Eely tore through the mercenary population like a child tearing through a bag of candy. Then he moved in with the local warlord and they’d been frenemies ever since. There were daily rumors they had killed one another. However, unfortunately for the locals, they were both still very much alive.

The Cabbage Merchant watched as Piandao smiled and waved to his would-be Haters like he was the Grand Marshal of the Fool’s Parade.

As he passed by a sleeping baby, it started screaming. It’s shrill voice echoed within the confines of the tiny village square as a sort of Asshole Alert System warning everyone that Piandao was near.

“Good morning, 58!” Piandao chimed.

“Shut the fuck up, Piandao!” 58 yelled from across the square.

“Back at ya! How about you, Hoshi? How’s the leg?”

“You broke it in five places, asshole!” the old man griped, trying to hit Piandao with his crutch as Piandao glided by.

Piandao laughed. “Well, that’s what you get for trying to kill me in my sleep, you nut.”

“Watch out, 36! Swordmaster coming through!” Piandao said as he pushed a short portly man aside. “Make way. I gotta get to the cabbage stand. Gotta file a grievance.”

Piandao approached the cabbage stand where its merchant had already started day drinking. Piandao the Butcher? They should have called him Piandao the Bitcher!

 _“What?”_ the merchant growled.

Piandao chuckled. “Nice… Anyhoo… I need to return these cabbages.” He dropped the wilted vegetables onto the counter. “They aren’t fresh even though you boast of having the freshest cabbages.”

“They were fresh when you bought them three days ago, Piandao.”

“Yeah, but they’re not fresh today. I’m gonna need a refund.”

“Why didn’t you eat them when they were fresh?”

Piandao sighed. “I was busy. I have a life, you know? 17 tried to stab me while I was working in the garden and then Mrs. San made fun of my head while I was making funeral arrangements for the warlord. And then I caught 29, 94, Local Lesbian, and 68 trying to booby-trap my home. Do you have any idea how stressful my life is? You couldn’t possibly imagine how hard it is to be me. I can hardly be faulted for not eating cabbage when my life is in shambles.”

The merchant crossed his arms, glaring. “I have no idea what those numbers mean.”

“Those aren’t numbers, they’re people,” Piandao said.

“Then why do you keep calling them by numbers?”

“They all have ‘Li’ in their names.”

“So?”

“Watch….” Piandao said. “Hey, Li!”

They listened as an angry chorus of insults and death threats, lobbed toward Piandao, came from all directions.

“There’s at least one hundred fifty Lis here. It’s just less confusing to assign them numbers. Right, 81?”

“Fuck you, Piandao!” came the angry cry from a tall skinny woman carrying a child on her hip.

“Here!” the merchant grumbled, pushing the coins toward Piandao. “Now would you please get out of my line and never return?”

Piandao nodded. “Acceptable! I’ll be back tomorrow.”

Two days later, Piandao returned.

“Sorry I wasn’t here yesterday,” he apologized. “The warlord made a bunch of new rules. I spent all day breaking them just to prove she wasn’t the boss of me. How about you? How was your day?”

“It was great,” the merchant said. “Nice and quiet. Everyone used their manners. The baby finally got to finish his nap.”

Piandao sorted the merchandise. “Too big... Too small... Too green... Too round… Too...cabbage-y…”

“If you aren’t going to buy the cabbages, don’t touch them.”

“I don’t have any money but I’ll take these cabbages. Will you take an I Owe You?”

“No!”

“Perhaps I can start a tab?”

“This isn’t a bar, Piandao!”

“Can I pay you in seashells?”

“No.”

“What about stones?”

“No.”

“Hair? I have a fine collection of hair from all over the world--”

“No, Piandao. No hair!”

“What about this gold bar I *cough* borrowed from the warlord?”

“G--gold bar?”

Piandao threw the bar down and it hit the counter with a loud ‘thunk’.

The merchant’s sad dead eyes sparked to life as he cautiously picked it up. “Is it...real?”

“It better be real. Otherwise, her fortune is as worthless as her stamp.” Piandao pointed to the stamp of her face etched into the gold’s shiny surface. “You’d think, after ninety-eight years, she’d be sick of looking at her own face. I know I am,” Piandao griped “Hope ya got change for that.”

The merchant’s smile turned into a scowl. He knew it was too good to be true. Research “Why No One Has Nice Things” and you’ll probably find drawings of Piandao.

“I don’t have change for an entire bar’s worth of gold, Piandao. Choose another payment method or leave.”

“Can’t leave. I promised the kids I’d juggle cabbages for them.”

“You mean the kids who throw rocks at you every day?”

Piandao nodded. “They declared a cease-fire on the condition that I juggle some cabbages for them. And also if I gave them some money. Mostly they just wanted the money. But a deal’s a deal. But, whatever. It isn’t even my gold. Take the whole bar and I’ll take these two big _sexy_ cabbages.”

Later that evening, as the merchant was closing his shop for the night, Piandao returned.

“I’m closed. No refunds. Go home.”

“Psh, rude!” Piandao mumbled. “These cabbages are unacceptable.”

“What’s wrong with them? Did you figure out you needed three cabbages to juggle instead of two?” the merchant groaned.

“They’re lazy!”

The cabbage merchant pulled a flask out from his tunic and began to power chug it. He needed to be nice and drunk to deal with Piandao. When he was done, he pulled out another flask. Halfway through the second bottle, he stopped. “What-- What the fuck are you talking about, Piandao?”

“When I was over at 116’s house the other night inviting myself to dinner, she told me the cabbages she bought from you made a fine stew.”

“And? So?”

“I took these cabbages into my home. I gave them love and respect. I treated them like family. And how did they repay me? Well, they didn’t make the stew! These are the laziest, meanest, most inconsiderate cabbages I’ve ever met. Now I’m hungry and I want revenge. But I’ll settle for a refund.”

The merchant sucked his teeth. Defeated, he slumped against his cart. “No refunds,” he mumbled when Piandao returned the cabbages.

“Get me the manager,” Piandao demanded.

Piandao waited several minutes while the merchant stared at him before a seething rage took hold of him and he finally snapped. “I’m the only person here,” he screamed, shaking his fist in angry indignation. “It’s my stand, idiot! And It’s closed!”

“In that case, I’m gonna write an angry letter. Where do I send it?”

“You can send it up your ass for all I care!” he hissed, causing the people around them to clap and cheer.

Piandao’s Angry Customer Face faltered as he started to laugh. “That was good,” he praised, slamming his hand down onto the merchant’s shoulder. “We’re friends now,” he grinned.

“Great,” the merchant grumbled.

“What’s your name?” Piandao wondered. “I need to know what to call you.”

The Cabbage Merchant opened his mouth to speak. “It’s--”

“Cuz if it’s Li, or Lee, or some variation of a name with Li or Lee, I have to assign you number 177.”

“It’s not ‘Li’ or ‘Lee’,” he huffed. “It’s--”

“Okay, great. Of course, if it’s Piandao, you have to change it _immediately_. This town’s not big enough for two Piandaos.”

“It isn’t big enough for one,” 73 yelled from behind her mango cart.

Piandao ignored her outburst. “Is your name Pippinpaddleopsicopolis? I knew a Pippinpaddleopsicopolis. He was a mercenary. I broke his heart and then I broke his arms. Or maybe I broke his heart because I broke his arms. Hmm… Wait! Where are you going?”

“You're worse than the Avatar!” the merchant complained before disappearing into the night.

A few days later, at the train station, the merchant was advised by an attendant that “That weird swordmaster left something for you in your cabin”. In his cabin sat a burlap bag on the small corner table. Thinking it might contain a snake, he heard a “clink” when he kicked the sack to the floor. Gold pieces shimmered in the sunlight that poured in from the nearby window when the bag flopped open.

He didn’t notice the note until after he put his very heavy potato sack of gold back on the table. Was it a death threat? He was afraid to find out.

He took in a deep breath and he slowly opened it.

It was worse than a death threat! It read “I told you we were friends.”

With “friends” like Piandao, who needed enemies?

The merchant sighed.

...

**_“Idiot.”_ **


End file.
